rejuvenatement – not retirement

It was the big band era, lots of brass
Billy whalin’ on the drums
while Johnny waited for his riff
makin’ the keyboard swing.

And me, standin’ on the riser
my long arms waitin’ too.
“Wing span of a hawk” mama said,
just the ticket for a trombone man.

Yeah, I could slide that brass
hear the notes clear and smooth
no strings or keys,
just that long sleek glide.

And Mabel at the mic,
feathers clipped in henna dyed hair
sultry voice in the sweet spots
hips, always swingin’ to the beat.

Never made it big like the Duke
but we had our gigs.
A glass of gin between sets
and smoke swirlin’ round our heads.

They’re all gone now.
Pawned my ‘bone long time ago.
But sometimes, while I’m sittin’ here
I can put myself there.

I close my eyes and start to sway
Mabel leanin’ real close like she did.
I wheel this chair around a bit
and I can feel us back there again,
swingin’ to that big band sound.

Rescored for dVerse Poetics Fantasia. This was originally posted in 2015, inspired by Carl Sandburg’s Jazz Fantasia. I’ve reworked it a bit — thinking it a good one for today’s prompt. I am hosting dVerse today — wonderful experience. In the words of Carl Sandburg, Go to it oh jazzmen!

Reblogged this on Poesy plus Polemics and commented:
here’s a fine and dandy piece from “Lillian the Home Poet” https://lillianthehomepoet.com/ – it brings me back to my own swinging musician days – I blew trumpet and my early inspirations were Harry James and Louie Armstrong

Thanks, Paul. Honored that you reblogged my piece — first time that’s happened to me.
Do love the Big Band era and so interesting to hear that you were a horn player — yes Harry James and Louie Armstrong: two of the greats!
Have a wonderful weekend, Paul!

Oh my — two reblogs — wow! Have never had that happen and you are the second on this piece. Thank you so very much!! Especially appreciate the directive to post comments here — I really appreciate it! Many many thanks!

My father was a huge fan of music and we listened to all kinds when growing up. I remember the sounds of Benny Goodman, Harry James, Dizzy Gillespie and so many others wafting around the house. I can’t think of music without thinking of him. I love your closing verse, no matter how old we get we remember the music that turned us on!

Yes Bjorn. This ole trombone man is now in his senior years, in a “retirement” center somewhere and swayin’ in his chair. The first reiteration of the poem had that reference so obtuse that folks never caught it. I’m glad you did here…….This is a totally fictitious poem. But, I imagine it plays out with many an older jazz man! 🙂 Music is pure joy — even when it’s just in our heads 🙂

I so enjoyed your voice here with this. I immediately thought of Tommy Dorsey and Glenn Miller. I grew up with electic music around me anf my mother taught me the Lindy when I was a wee thing. I like that in the wheelchair, the cat still rocks. Loved this #2 of yours.

The can still rocks indeed!
Now that’s a sight I’d like to see — you rockin’ the Lindy 🙂
Glad you enjoyed — I do think this is one of my favorite pieces I’ve ever created. I love reading it aloud too — inspired directly by Carl Sandburg’s Jazz Fantasia! 🙂

I could listen to that era’s music for days on end! Love it too! 🙂 Glad you enjoyed…..and I’m sure you know that the trombone is one of the most difficult instruments there is to play as it has no “sure fire” notes to press or finger over or pluck. It’s all in the slide so you must have a great ear! 🙂 Congrats to your son!

Such a wonderful visit to the Big Band era which was still alive in my very young childhood. Glen Millers window and daughter lived in my neighborhood. When I hear that music and watch movies or videos of the dancing that went with, my feet just itch to get in on it. You really captured the whole atmosphere and beat. Wondrous.